One (1) Cold Prosecutor
by Candaru
Summary: After a panic-stricken Edgeworth jumps into a freezing river to rescue a danger-ridden Kay, Lang decides to rescue Edgeworth from the freezing cold- whether he wants the help or not. (Inspired by a tumblr post! Short oneshot, no slash, no romo, just three idiots being cute, rated T for safety)


(Inspired by this post on tumblr [remove spaces]: leonawriter . tumblr . c o m . post/148933294509)

* * *

"What were you THINKING—"

"Mr. Edgeworth, I t-told you—"

"Jumping into a RIVER of all escape routes…"

"I h-had it c-covered!"

The oddly casual banter yelled over the wailing of sirens was something Shi-Long Lang had grown all too accustomed to when he was around the duo that stood before him now. As the self-proclaimed "Great Thief Yatagarasu" was hoisted onto a stretcher— probably unnecessarily, as the girl really _did_ seem to have incredible skill facing off against the nighttime rapids— Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chewed her out with the fury of a wolf with a threatened cub. Shi-Long Lang, meanwhile, stood at a more respectful distance, arms crossed and stiff as a statue.

"…Please watch her closely, she can't be trusted to take care of herself…"

"Mr. Edgeworth! Is th-that anyway to t-talk about y-your… a… _ACHOO!"_

"Point proven, Kay."

"N-no fair…"

It was interesting, seeing the ace prosecutor so riled up. Not that he was ever a man of particularly calm composure (also he seemed to think he was), but in ordering the medics and policemen he'd called around to take care of the mischievous girl, this time he seemed to have entirely forgotten his own predicament.

So naturally, it fell to Lang to remind him.

"Mr. Prosecutor?"

Edgeworth spun around, looking half-dazed by the chaos on top of being sopping wet.

"What is it?"

Lang thrust a casual finger at Edgeworth's clothes. "Aiming to be a swimsuit model next? What, the law not hard enough for you?"

Despite the obvious visual provided by the wet suit clinging to his body, it took the prosecutor longer than usual to get the joke. When he did, his face revealed that he didn't find it funny.

"This is no laughing matter, Agent Lang. Kay was in serious danger, throwing herself into the river like that. I had no choice but to—"

"I'm not judging you for saving a life, Frilly Boy. I'm merely reminding you that you might want to look in the mirror before wasting anymore breath on that thief you just saved." Lang inhaled deeply, pulling out a scroll from the recesses of his mind. "Lang Xi says: The waters of justice run cold and swift!"

"Well, pardon me if I don't have the time to duck into a department store for some warmer attire," Edgeworth snapped hastily, although it was clear he was beginning to notice the biting chill of the wind. "I'm following Kay to the hospital immediately, and that is that. It's my duty as a Prosecutor."

Shi-Long Lang let the man get into his car (an overly flashy, red model parked on the side of the bridge) only to give him a false sense of security before promptly opening the passenger side door and getting in himself. Edgeworth gave him a hard stare.

"I don't recall inviting you into my car."

"I don't recall inviting you into my case."

Lang smirked as he watched his prey squirm under the undeniable facts of the matter, and finally dart his eyes away with an attempted look of nonchalance. The cards were all clearly on the table.

"What would you have me do, then? A battle of wits?"

"Hah!" Lang threw back his head and bared his teeth, grinning. "Ain't no point arguing over how the girl got into that river. You know it as well as I do."

"Then why, pray tell, are you still sitting in my car? You're getting fur on the seats." Edgeworth seemed to only have just noticed this last point, as Lang's coat did shed a fair amount.

Lang raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding me. _You're_ the one getting your own seats sopping wet."

As a brief look of horror crossed Edgeworth's face, Lang made a shooing motion with his hands. "Out. We're switching places. You could get water on the dashboard."

After a moment of deliberation, the man wisely decided not to argue this point, opting instead to simply glare at Lang while they each temporarily left the vehicle. While their paths around the car intersected, Lang decided on one more condition to keep the man's investigation a secret.

"Oh, also, coats."

"What?"

"I said we're switching coats. Take yours off. Now."

The panicked, blubbering mess of an argument that followed this comment would undoubtedly be the talk of anyone who remained on the bridge for a good, long while. Shi-Long Lang wished his men were still around to enjoy it with him.

In the end, of course, Lang's status won out over his opponent's so-called "Logic," and the result was a red-faced Edgeworth sitting scrunched up like a pouting toddler in an extremely warm, tasteful black coat, the fluffy fur collar pressed close to his chest while he accepted his defeat.

Oh, yes, and a coatless Lang in the driver's seat, smirking and making as many comments about the _improvement_ as he pleased.


End file.
